


You're An Explosion

by toomuchgawking



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-04-30 10:59:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5161238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomuchgawking/pseuds/toomuchgawking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen wants simple things; to finish his doctorate, to figure out what he wants to do with said doctorate, to never, ever let Dorian find out that he's got a crush on him. Really, he wouldn't bet on any of those three things happening.</p><p>--</p><p>There was a muffled sound from Mal's room, and Dorian's voice floated out saying, "Of course not, one moment." Cullen stopped, shifting the direction of his frown to Mal's door, and after a few moments Dorian came striding out - apparently having changed himself in the meantime -rubbing his hands together. Which didn't make sense until he got close enough, and then ran his hands gently and thoroughly over Cullen's chest and upper arms, slipping easily under the straps of his tank top.</p><p>Cullen blinked, every muscle in his body going tense for a moment. He was already blushing, it was going to go all the way down his chest and everyone would be able to see it because of the damn stretched to hell tank top Dorian was making him wear and- Dorian looked thrilled. Cullen looked down, and very slowly looked back up. "Is that body glitter?"</p><p>Dorian beamed at him. "No one's going to give a damn about your shirt."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Bet That You Look Good On The Dance Floor

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is dedicated to all the friends who now know better than to invite me clubbing.

It had become oddly normal for Cullen to come home and find people in his apartment. Most of their friends. It was difficult to track down when it all started. He'd been the first to move into the apartment building - well, him, Josephine, and Malika. Back then it had just been the most affordable three bedroom apartment they could find. When factoring transport. Nothing was actually that affordable. Then the apartment next to theirs had opened up and Leliana had taken it, and Sera had moved in downstairs, and one by one they'd kind of... taken over. It was Sera who'd figured out that there maybe wasn't as much difference between the keys to the different apartments as there should be. She'd been delighted. Honestly, they could take it up with the owner, but that seemed like a lot of effort. The only person he'd actually worry about was the one who'd figured it out, and he knew she'd never do anything too harmful, she just-

Was leaning casually against the kitchen bench, in front of the drawers, when he walked in. Which explained the slamming noise that had echoed down the hall when he'd opened the front door.

He narrowed his eyes, glaring for a moment as he dropped his keys in their dish, before giving up and sighing. "You licked all the spoons again, didn't you."

"Fuck," Sera said, with feeling, moving away from the drawers. "I'll get you again at some point."

He rolled his eyes and opened the top drawer, intent on moving all the spoons back to the dishwasher, only to step back with a noise he would very much like to say was not a yelp at the sight of a very large, very hairy, and he realised almost immediately very rubber, spider. Sera, perching herself on one of their spindly dining chairs, let out a gleeful cackle.

Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll bet you still licked the spoons too. Is anyone else even home?"

"No," she said, unconcerned, watching him place the rubber spider on the bench. "Mal text before, she's on her way. She said she wanted to meet me here to get ready."

"Ready?" Cullen paused, halfway to the dishwasher with a handful of cutlery "Ready for what?"

"We're going out tonight."

"We?"

He's answered, almost immediately, by the door banging enthusiastically open, and Dorian sauntering into the kitchen. "Is anyone else here yet?" he announced to the room in general. "I want to start pre-gaming."

"It's 4pm," Cullen answered.

"Perfect timing," Dorian said, "I'm guessing the answer to my first question is no."

Sera threw a grape at him. "Hey."

"You're always here," Dorian answered. "I don't need to ask." He smiled, the same kind of effortless charming he always was. Cullen sighed, and did his best to ignore it. It didn't need acknowledging. It wasn't anything new.

"Right. I actually have a thing I have to work on tonight, so-"

"Bo-ring," sang Sera, at the same time as Dorian, rolling his eyes, said, "You are not leaving us alone to go work on your degree."

"It's a doctorate, actually," Cullen said, painfully aware of how doubtful he sounded. It was hard enough defending the whole, 'I quit my steady job at the police station to take the time to do a fucking doctorate' to himself, let alone anyone else.

Dorian scoffed. "It's not a proper assignment unless you're doing it hungover after a night out."

"I think I've outgrown that part of studying," Cullen said.

"At least entertain me until your roommates get back," Dorian said, arching an eyebrow at Cullen. Who already could tell he was going to say yes. "I'll make myself a drink, so I'm happy, we can play chess, so you can feel like you're not wasting time."

Sera groaned, and pulled out her phone.

Cullen fought with himself for a moment. "Only until Mal gets home."

Dorian opened the cupboard that had been designated the liquor cabinet, the triumphant smile on his face disappearing behind the door.

By the time the front door slammed open next, Dorian was on his second scotch and soda, and he and Cullen were halfway through their game. It was always just a hair easier to deal with Dorian when there was a chessboard in between them. He'd been watching while Cullen poured over the board - he was trying a new strategy and he couldn't tell yet if it was working or if Dorian could still box him in - and he didn't look up when a figure swept into Cullen's room to regard them. Living with Malika Cadash, Cullen had said multiple times since they'd all moved in, was something of an experience.

"What's this," she said, incredibly regally for someone who barely hit five feet, "I hear about you babying out on us tonight."

"I don't know what tonight is," Cullen protested. "You never said anything about doing anything."

Dorian kicked him lightly through the legs of the stool they were using as a chess table. "Make your move."

"That is a bald faced lie," Mal said, "Last night, I asked if you were doing anything tonight, and you said you weren't. So I said, 'We should,' and you said, 'okay,' and I was texting people today and it all got decided. We're going clubbing."

Cullen made a quick, and probably terrible, decision and shifted a pawn forward. "I don't even have anything to wear clubbing." As a protest, he knew it wasn't going to work, but he thought he'd better at least give it a go.

"I can dress you," Dorian offered, plucking a knight delicately off the board to shift it. He met Cullen's answering glare with a chuckle. "Or, how about, if I win, you go. I can definitely make you presentable, if that really worries you. If you win, we'll leave you alone." He took a sip of his drink.

Mal considered it for a moment. "I'll support that"

Cullen stared at the board, fingers hovering over his queen. He thought the gambit was working. Dorian had left his foot resting against Cullen's calf after he'd kicked him. "Deal."

Somehow, he wasn't actually surprised when he regretted saying that not even ten minutes later. Malika pressed a glass of... something. He wasn't entirely sure into his hand, stood on her tiptoes, and hauled down on his shoulder so she could kiss his cheek. "I'm glad this all worked out," she said.

"I could sober drive," he offered half heartedly, studying the drink in his hand.

"No," Sera called from Mal's room. "I miss drunk Cullen."

"Everybody misses drunk Cullen," Mal called back. She patted him on the back, in a way that could almost have been called sympathetic if she hadn't looked so gleeful as she did it. "We're calling a fucking uber, like normal people."

It hit six and Josephine got home - apparently Mal had just asked her if she wanted to go out that morning rather than getting no choice like Cullen did. Cullen was almost finished his first drink, and Dorian was barely halfway through inspecting Cullen's wardrobe. Leliana had dropped in briefly, but retreated to her own apartment, without clearly stating either way if she was going to get ready or just going. Cole had arrived too - at some point. Cullen wasn't sure when. He hadn't heard the door, he'd just gone to dump his glass in the sink and there Cole was, sitting at the kitchen table, dealing cards to Sera. He'd pointed at the glass in Cullen's hand, and said, "Mal wants you to make yourself another."

"She probably does," Cullen agreed.

And then Josephine had opened the door, and called out that she'd brought home curry, and everyone came sweeping into the kitchen. Which meant Cullen lost the opportunity to discretely dump his glass, but also meant that they were no longer drinking on empty stomachs. Which was always the way around Cullen preferred it. He became aware, swiping his last bit of naan around his plate, that Dorian and Mal were having a hushed conversation that involved a few too many glances towards him. He narrowed his eyes in their direction, and Dorian grinned back at him.

"Stop being so suspicious, we're talking about what I'm going to dress you in tonight."

"You don't need to dress me," Cullen said.

"Yes, he does. That was the deal." Mal leveled her fork towards him. "No backing out."

"Everything in your wardrobe is so casual," Dorian sighed. "I was just checking my plan through with Mal, making sure she approved."

"Since when do you need Mal's approval about clothes," Cullen asked, apprehension growing three sizes.

Dorian smiled serenely. "You'll see." Then he stood up, leaving his plate on the table, and tugged Cullen out of his chair. "Come on. We should all get pretty before we drink much more." An agreeing grumble seemed to echo around the table, and Cullen found himself escorted firmly towards his bedroom. He'd half expected to find clothes all over his bed; it was very nearly a pleasant surprise to see only a small, neatly folded pile. Only nearly, because he'd seen what Dorian wore on a regular basis, and he wasn't at all convinced he'd be very comfortable. Dorian smiled, hand lingering at the small of his back. Which wasn't distracting at all.

"Go shower," he said, "and put that on. I'll be back for finishing touches."

The pile of clothes turned out to be a pair of relatively normal jeans, and a tank top that Cullen hardly wore because it was far too loose. He blinked down at himself. It definitely did not seem nice enough to go clubbing in. Or warm enough, even if it was early enough in Autumn that the nights hadn't yet gotten to the point where they were chilly. Still. He frowned, exiting the bathroom, and walking towards his room.

"Dorian," he called, "I'm assuming I wear another shirt over this."

There was a muffled sound from Mal's room, and Dorian's voice floated out saying, "Of course not, one moment." Cullen stopped, shifting the direction of his frown to Mal's door, and after a few moments Dorian came striding out - apparently having changed himself in the meantime -rubbing his hands together. Which didn't make sense until he got close enough, and then ran his hands gently and thoroughly over Cullen's chest and upper arms, slipping easily under the straps of his tank top.

Cullen blinked, every muscle in his body going tense for a moment. He was already blushing, it was going to go all the way down his chest and everyone would be able to see it because of the damn stretched to hell tank top Dorian was making him wear and- Dorian looked thrilled. Cullen looked down, and very slowly looked back up. "Is that body glitter?"

Dorian beamed at him. "No one's going to give a damn about your shirt."

"Cullen, we'll match," Mal cried as she came tearing out of her room, and sure enough her slinky black halter top exposed the same gold shimmer spread across her shoulders.

Cullen, very heroically, managed to hold back a sigh.

"Don't look so pained," Dorian said, clearly barely containing laughter. "Trust us, you look wonderful. Now come on, I need to do your hair."

An hour and a half later Cullen's shoulders were hunched together in the uber, crammed in the back seat with Mal, Sera, and Cole. Dorian was sitting in the front, chatting amiably with the driver. Mal sighed, leaning her head on Cullen’s shoulder, and he glanced down.

“You’re going to get body glitter in your hair,” he said.

He could see her cheek curve with her smile. "It'll look awesome."

"Who else is coming tonight?" he asked, shifting his arm so it was wrapped around her instead of trapped against his side.

"Josephine went to Leliana's apartment to make sure she came," Mal said.

"Shall we take bet on whether than means they'll show up, or if she was making sure she came in a different sense?" Dorian called from the front. Sera sniggered.

"Bull's meeting us there right?" Mal asked, and Dorian twisted to face them, nodding.

"He said he would. Did you manage to convince Varric?"

"Nah, he wanted to go to a pub," Mal said, sounding very much like she was rolling her eyes. "And then he got a call from Cassandra, I didn't even need to ask."

"Where are we even going?" Cullen asked, because somehow the importance of finding that out had gotten lost in; a) fighting back the blush from Dorian basically groping him with body glitter, b) that being followed up by Dorian spending a good twenty minutes playing with his hair, and c) Mal having made him two more drinks while that happened. The first one had maybe been gulped down a little too fast in a misguiding attempted to help with the blush.

"Uh, whatchamacallit," Mal said. "The one down by the lake. Dorian?"

"Magic," said Dorian, sounding deeply satisfied.

Cullen groaned. "I didn't even know that place was still open. It's such a bad name for a club."

Mal patted his knee. "It's okay, Cullen, we'll get trashed and you won't even remember what it's called."

"That's what he's afraid of," Cole said, softly.

That was exactly what Cullen was afraid of. It wasn't even really the getting drunk, because he was okay with that. It was that he wasn't very good at clubbing. He'd never really gotten the hang of it. Dancing just led to feeling awkward, and it was too loud to talk, and there weren't very many places to sit, and he always ended up outside in a cloud of cigarette smoke wondering when other people would want to leave. Which is exactly where he was very soon after they'd found Bull and his friends, and then dispersed. He'd been enjoying the air that, if not fresh, was at least cold, for about half an hour when Cole kind of… materialised beside him, holding out a drink.

"Thanks," Cullen said, taking it.

"You're welcome," Cole said, a small smile playing over his face. "Malika sent me. She seemed fairly certain you'd already be out here. She'll come find you later."

"Of course she will," Cullen said.

They sipped their respective drinks in companionable silence for a few moments.

"This doesn't really seem like your scene," Cullen said eventually.

Cole gave the barest impression of a shrug. "It doesn't really seem like your scene."

"Yes, well," Cullen said. "Mal, y'know. But she didn't seem to be bulldozing you like she did me."

"It's not my scene, not really," Cole said. "But look at them. They're so happy."

Cullen followed Cole's gaze to the swell of people inside. He couldn't see anyone he knew, but he was pretty sure he got what Cole meant.

"Yeah," he said. "I guess you're right."

A few minutes away and Cole melted away - Cullen was assuming to indoors. Cullen finished his drink. The night continued. Eventually, he gathered the courage to brave the crush of people around the bar to get another drink. A flushed, sweaty Mal saluted him gleefully when they crossed paths, and he caught sight of Dorian flirting heavily with someone while Bull and his friends (Cullen was sure he knew all their names but when they were all together they had the tendency to transform into a horde) watched. He didn't even think they were trying to be subtle. He'd almost got the the bar, or at least, the several person deep crush of people around the bar when-

"Cullen!"

He couldn't place the voice at all, but then he turned to see messy hair and a grin that were both familiar, if in a slightly different configuration.

"Hawke?" he said. "I mean. Marian. Hi."

She snorted, coming to a halt in front of him. "As long as you don't call me Garrett, it's fine. It's all interchangeable, our family reunions are confusing as fuck. How are things?"

Cullen let out a weird, huffing laugh. He'd never spoken to Marian as much as he'd spoken to her twin, which made sense since Garrett was the one he'd worked with. Really, he'd just seen her when she would occasionally come to pick her brother up. Plus one memorable time she'd done something with had resulted in Aveline dragging her into the station, and sitting her in the waiting room until Garret could come get her. Which he had, looking highly amused, with two embarrassed younger siblings in tow. Marian, unconcerned, had flirted with everyone who passed through the room. Aveline had been furious. Cullen had never asked.

Really, he wouldn't even have counted on Marian remembering him at all.

"Still, sorry," he said. "Things are good. I'm just here with friends. How are you?"

"Good, good," she said. "Garrett was just saying the other day how they miss you at the station. Apparently they replaced you with some fuckweasel named Carroll. Do a shot with me?"

He blinked. "Okay."

She clapped him cheerfully on the shoulder. "Great. You're sparklier than I remember. Come on."

Cullen realised, as she tugged him through the crowd, that he had actually forgotten about the glitter for a little while. Somehow there was a bartender coming over to them as soon as they got to the bar. For a moment Cullen thought he should ask Marian to teach him whatever her trick was, but the answers came very quickly because as soon as she was close enough Marian half hoisted herself onto the bar to give the girl a kiss.

"I'm on the clock, sweet thing," the bartender said, though she didn't sound at all put out. Her lip piercing caught the lights at she spoke. "What can I get you?"

"Shots," Marian said, looking pleased with herself.

"Of course. Coming right up."

"I notice you didn't specify what the shots are of," Cullen said, aiming for dry but probably sounding nervous.

"Of course not," Marian said.

They were both served two shots of something dark, Cullen missed the bottle they were poured from somehow, and the bartender left with a wink. Whatever the it was, it burned all the way into Cullen's chest. He coughed, but managed to only do it once. Marian clapped him on the shoulder again, said, "Good to see you," and disappeared. Cullen went back outside. It took maybe a full minute to realise he'd meant to get a drink. Without one he was just standing outside with nothing to do. It wasn't the alcohol. He'd had the shots. But standing by himself at a club without even an empty glass didn't feel right. But he wasn't sure if he was ready to try and get to the bar again.

"The fuck are you even doing out here?" Sera had slid out of the doorway while Cullen was trying to make a decision. She regarded him from a few feet away, looking unimpressed.

"I like it out here," Cullen said, he thought perfectly reasonably. "You're out here too."

"I haven't fucking been here all night, have I?" Sera retorted, walking over, and tucking herself under his arm. "Aren't you cold?"

Cullen, honestly, hadn't noticed it. "A little."

"You should come inside. It's fun, yeah?"

"Maybe in a little while."

She huffed, poked him viciously in the side, and slid back into the club. And that was that. Until.

"Rutherford."

Pointed, and direct. Cullen was pretty sure he'd been expecting this all night. Dorian walked over, watching him, a swing to his step.

"I didn't make you look as good as you look right now so you could stand outside by yourself all night. It's pathetic." He reached up, fiddling with part of Cullen's hair, frowning. "Come on."

"I'm really okay," Cullen said."

"I wasn't asking," Dorian said, then grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him into the club.

They didn't get two steps before Malika descended upon them, grinning like a demon. "Good, you found Cullen," she said. "We're going to the bar to do shots."

There was a knife edge to Dorian's answering smile. "Good."

And that was- That was the beginning of the end. Or not the end. It was the beginning of something. Cullen had been hovering at tipsy all night, but between Mal, and Dorian, and fucking Bull (who'd slammed him on the back in greeting with a half roared, "I didn't even know you were here!"), he was a little past that. A little. Or a lot. Something. He'd been dragged onto the dance floor, and he still didn't know what he was doing but for a little while it didn't seem to matter that much. It felt less just like a crowd and more like a crowd of friends. When he broke out to the smokers courtyard again it was supposed to be just for a moment, to cool down and breathe.

"You'd better not be trying to escape out here again," Dorian said from behind him.

"Just too hot," Cullen said, turning to face him.

Somehow Dorian still looked pretty much like he had when they'd left the apartment. Cullen felt like a sweaty mess. 'Good." He raised an eyebrow. "Though if you're too hot there is something that could help."

"Oh?" said Cullen.

Dorian stepped forward and- and honestly Cullen wasn't even sure how it happened. One moment Dorian was looking at him and the next he'd somehow stripped Cullen's tank top off. And Cullen was frozen. Cullen was drunk and a really good looking guy just pulled his shirt off. He was… He was just.

"Um," he said. Then, slowly crawling back to regular thought. "Won't I get kicked out if I'm not wearing a shirt?"

Dorian looked him up and down, a gratifyingly appreciative look on his face. "At this point? I don't think so."

"Okay." Cullen was fairly sure he was blushing. Well, he'd already been flushed from alcohol, but this had to be making it worse. Maybe Dorian would just assume it was more drunk-flush. Cullen could only hope. "You know, when you said you were going to choose my outfit, I thought you'd pick something more like what you wear." Dorian was wearing a black button down with the sleeves rolled up, and nice jeans. He looked perfectly respectable. Even if the shirt was unbuttoned further down than Cullen had wanted to contemplate. It was getting more and more difficult to not contemplate it.

Whereas Cullen was now shirtless and still covered in glitter.

"Why would I want to dress you like I dress?" Dorian said, like it was obvious. "I dressed you like what I wanted to look at." He smirked. "And I little bit how I thought would make you blush most."

Cullen was fairly sure gold glitter on tomato red skin wasn't a good look. But Mal came to pull them back inside before he could say anything.

Later. There had been some kind of fatal misunderstanding in regards to the location of their uber. They - Cullen, Sera, Mal, and Dorian - were wandering through the streets. Cullen wasn't sure they counted as near the club anymore. Mal had her phone pressed to her ear, but Cullen had tuned out the slightly irritated rapid fire list of street names two blocks ago. He hadn't noticed the cold at first, but it was starting to become hard to ignore. There was just something…

"Where's my shirt?" he asked, frowning. "And where's Cole?"

Sera snorted. "Nice order. Cole went home ages ago."

"I think I left your shirt at the bar," Dorian said. He sounded completely unrepentant.

Headlights cut across the street, and Mal yelped. "Yes! I think I can see you!" And then they were all piling into the car. Dorian somehow ended up in the front again, and to be fair he probably was the best at making not-weird conversation with their driver at this point. Cullen was too cold and drunk to make an effort. Mal, sitting in the middle, leaned into him and let out a hiss.

"Holy tits, you're freezing." It didn't stop her leaning into him at all.

"I am aware of that," Cullen said.

By the time they got to their building, Sera was definitely asleep, and Mal was most of the way. Dorian looked at Cullen. "I'll take Sera if you take Mal," he said. Somehow, that worked, Sera roused enough to cling to Dorian piggy back style, and Mal leaning into Cullen all the way up the stairs. They got in, everyone floating in that quiet sleepy-drunk phase. Cullen forced himself to brush his teeth and change his jeans for sweatpants before burrowing under his duvet. He was still cold. He wasn't asleep yet when his bed dipped and someone burrowed in next to him. He cracked open his eyes to see Sera peering at him from a few inches away.

"Mal's bed is fucking covered in shit. I can't be fucked going back to my place," she mumbled, and then prodded him on the nose. "You had fun tonight, right?"

"Yeah," Cullen said, muzzily.

"Good," she said.

Mal slipped in then, crawling in on Sera's other side. "I'm glad you have a big bed, Cul," she murmured.

Cullen was mostly asleep when there was a dry chuckle from the doorway. "I came to say goodnight, but. Well, how could I not join in on this?" came Dorian's voice. Cullen couldn't quite get himself to open his eyes, but he felt Dorian slide under the covers behind him, pressed in close and blessedly warm. He wanted to ask something, but all that came out was a vaguely questioning noise. Dorian let out a soft laugh. "Go to fucking sleep, Cullen.'

The problem was this; liking Dorian had been a slow, steady build over years. They'd all met because Dorian had recognised Mal from an introduction class, and one time when class has been cancelled but Mal hadn't checked her emails, he'd seen her walking to class and stopped her to make sure she knew. Mal had declared him her savior, brought him to meet everyone and… The rest had been history. But he'd been Mal's friend first, someone who was around sometimes, but only Mal-adjacent. It'd been two years before he and Cullen had really become friends. And Cullen had hardly dated anyone through college, focused on his schoolwork to the point where if he didn't have friends like Mal it would've been to the exclusion of all else. And then he'd started with the police, and… Somewhere along the line Cullen had started looking at Dorian differently. He didn't know how to change what their relationship already was. Dorian had never shown the slighted bit of interest, beyond the occasional leer. Given that he occasionally leered at everyone, so it wasn't exactly something Cullen could take to heart. And, flustered though he might get sometimes, Cullen was not particularly willing to invest himself in getting all moony over someone who wasn't interested. He liked Dorian. He didn't entertain notions about anything happening between them. Or, rather, he had and the possibilities included many more chances of mortification than anything else, so he did his very best to stop entertaining said notions. Which worked. Most of the time.

Still…

Still, waking up with Dorian's mustache tickling the back of his neck was something. No matter how hungover he felt. Even with Sera sprawled linbs akimbo half on top of him, and Mal somehow flipped around with her head resting on Sera's calf. Dorian was warm, resting against his back and- okay. It was far too hot in Cullen's bed with four people. He'd sweated enough the night before. And the more he woke up the drier his mouth felt, and the more his head hurt. There was no way to decide between going back to sleep or pulling himself out of bed so he could cool down. Mal's bed had to be free, if everyone was in his. He could go there.

A buzzing noise cut through his thoughts; his phone. In his jeans pocket, on the floor. His head throbbed. He groaned. The phone buzzed again. Very slowly, he managed to extricate himself from the mess of people. Several long minutes, and a punch to the ribs that would've been vicious if Sera was any more awake, and he was standing. Hunched over and squinting, but standing. And he had his phone which gave him several pieces of information; it was 9.30am, he had 12% battery left, a voicemail, two texts from Aveline, and a missed call from his sister who had probably left the voicemail.

'Hawke's sister said she saw you last night. Good on you for getting out. She's in fine form this morning', read Aveline's first text.

'Makes me interested to see what kind of shape you're in. Lunch?' read the second.

Cullen tried to imagine how he'd feel in two hours, compared with how guilty he'd feel turning Aveline down for the second time in a row, since he'd been in dissertation hell last time she'd asked. Not that he wasn't still in dissertation hell, he'd just been handling it better that week. After careful consideration, he replied in the affirmative, plugged his phone in to charge, and set about trying to feel more like a human being. Starting with a shower. He could deal with the voicemail significantly later.

When he emerged, with wet hair and hopefully without the glitter he'd completely forgotten about until he'd caught sight of himself in the mirror (Pavus had a lot to answer for), Josephine was curled on the couch with a book.

"Morning," he managed, though it felt more like a grunt, as he shuffled towards the kitchen.

"There's coffee in the pot," she said, sounded amused.

He grunted thankfully, retrieving a mug. Food didn't feel like a possibility just yet but coffee? Coffee was definitely doable. Halfway through the first cup he felt almost conscious, which led to a realisation, which led to shuffling back to the doorway into the lounge to glare at Josephine in the most accusatory manner he could manage.

"You never showed up last night," he said.

She glanced up from her book, the picture of innocence. "Leliana and I decided to stay in. We figured it wouldn't take everyone long to forget we were meant to show up. I didn't get any frantic texts, so I guess we were right." She smiled, serenely. "What are you doing up before the rest of them, anyway?"

"I overheated because everyone is in my bed," he said. "And I'm having lunch with Aveline, so I needed time to make myself human." He yawned, wide enough that his jaw cracked, and drained his mug. "I think it's going to take more coffee."

She held out her own cup. "Bring me another too?"

Two cups later and Cullen had to catch a bus to meet Aveline at 11.30. He could have driven, really, but he was still feeling slightly too hungover to really trust himself behind the wheel. That, and his car had recently started combining the screeching sound it had been making for months with a acrid smell like burnt plastic and Cullen wasn't ready to confront the fact that he was probably going to need to take it to a mechanic sometime soon. If he didn't drive it, it couldn't get any worse. Probably. Still, the bus might not have been the best idea. The blue line buses were always the old ones, he could never figure out why, and the swaying was not helping his stomach. And then there was the guy in the seat behind him who had been chatting happily on his phone the entire ride so far. By the time they reached his stop, Cullen was really regretting the decision to do anything but stay horizontal. Though, at least he was on solid ground again. And by the time he actually walked the rest of the way to meet Aveline, he was feeling a little better.

And, bless her, she'd been thinking of him when she picked the place. It was one of the many, many painfully trendy burger places that'd been popping up all over the city. There were at least four different chains, opening up a seemingly endless amount of stores, plus a few independents. They were all similarly overpriced, and similarly delicious. Even standing outside the door the smell of hot oil and chutney was pervasive. Cullen was pretty sure there had previously been a florist in the same location a year ago. His stomach growled. The nausea, he realised, was almost completely gone.

"Here I thought you'd be late." He turned to see Aveline striding towards him, still in uniform. She was grinning broadly, and pulled him into a hug when she got close enough. "You look about how I expected though. Not quite as bad as Marian."

"I'm surprised she was anywhere you would've seen her," Cullen said.

"Garrett got a flat tire, she had to bring him a spare," she answered, leading the way into the restaurant. "She was not pleased."

"I can imagine," Cullen said.

Lunch with Aveline was always good. Sometimes he forgot how much. Between the time, and the greasy pulled pork and apple slaw burger, thick cut fries, and stories of how things had been going in the station, he was feeling fully human again. And missing his old job a little. Maybe not the job exactly. Being on the force always felt like belonging to something. Somehow, some of it must have shown on his face, and Aveline gave him an appraising look as she wiped her hands on her napkin.

"How's the doctorate going?" she asked.

"It's… going," Cullen said. He'd spent four hours that Thursday just trying to fix some fucking footnotes but that was… Just something that happened. "It's fine."

"What are you going to do after it's done?"

"I haven't thought about it yet," Cullen said. In fact, he'd been actively avoiding thinking about it.

Aveline raised an eyebrow. Cullen fidgeted.

"Is this the part where you say you'd always be happy to have me back?"

"No," Aveline said. "Obviously we would. You did good work. But it's your life."

Cullen spun the straw of his drink between his fingers. "Yeah, it is." But the sudden reminder of what he was doing with his life now, rather than what he did with his life then, already had him thinking. Monday morning he had a session at a local school for his research, and then he had to be on campus on Tuesday for a class and a meeting with his advisor. Which… It wasn't that he didn't like his advisor, it was that the flinty stare she pinned him with every time they had a meeting made him feel like he was failing, no matter what she was actually telling him at the time. "Once I figure it out I'll be sure to let you know."

"Glad to hear it." Aveline smiled, then sighed. "I should probably get back. I left Kev in charge and he hasn't stopped texting his new girlfriend all week."

They paid, and wandered out onto the street, and before they parted ways Aveline said, "Oh, by the way. Invitations are coming in the next week or so. Watch for it."

Cullen grinned, broadly. "I can't wait. Tell Donnic I said hi."

"Will do," she called, waving as she turned away. And Cullen walked back to the bus stop to catch another miserable blue line back to the apartment building.

It was after two when he got home. The late night had hit him halfway through the trip back, and he spent the walk from the bus stop to the building yawning. The apartment was quiet when he walked in, but he found Mal curled on the couch with a mug of tea on the coffee table, and a book she might've been napping over.

"Everyone went home," she said, blinking owlishly at him. "Josie went to Leli's. Where were you?"

"Lunch with Aveline," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"Ugh," she said succinctly.

He held in a laugh. "I'm going to go take a nap."

She nodded, waving him off, and he retreated to his room. He didn't even bother closing the door behind him before collapsing face on top of his bed. It wasn't that- he wasn't looking for a trace of Dorian on his sheets or anything. But he swore he could still smell him. He really had it bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://ratifythesilence.tumblr.com).


	2. Fill Your Lungs Up With Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adulthood is going to your friend's things even if they suck.

Tuesday nights always crept up on Cullen. Or, not Tuesday night's in general. The third Tuesday of every month snuck up on Cullen. Even though it was always marked on the calendar in the kitchen, Josephine's neat handwriting spelling out the words, 'Joe's,' innocuously. Because it was innocuous. It wasn't even really an inconvenience, because getting out of the apartment for an evening was always nice, and Joe's wasn't even that bad of a place. Some of the chairs were shabby, but they were all comfortable, and the coffee was good. Really, the most irritating thing about the whole situation would be Sera making fun of all the different names Cullen had to listen out for to make sure he didn't miss his coffee - he'd gotten used to it before he'd finished high school; it was no longer funny it was just what happened - if it wasn't for. Well. The reason they were there in the first place.

The guy on the stage sids something about a dusky goddess, and Cullen was really starting to worry that the euphoria in his voice wasn't fake.

"You know," Dorian said from his left, arms crossed and legs stretched out under their table. "I thought friends didn't let their friends go to bad poetry readings."

"It's not all bad," Cullen said, resolutely. At Dorian's scathing look he amended. "Leliana's not bad. And once she's done, we can leave."

"Absolutely not," Josie said from his right. "That would be so rude."

Dorian let out a long, quiet groan. "Would it also be rude if I went to sleep?"

"I'm going to say yes," Cullen said. "You know, it's your own fault you're here. Remember you used to not come? Then you saw it on the calendar and told us you felt left out."

Dorian picked his coffee up off the table, and said, "Fuck. That."

Josie gave him a look that might have been a glare on any other face. Cullen hid a smile behind the edge of his mug. The man on the stage finished off with something about the soft flesh of a rotting apple recited in a tone that could only be described as orgasmic. Cullen was trying very hard to not think about the metaphorical implications. But then he stepped of the stage, amidst lukewarm applause, and Leliana stepped up, leaning her guitar against the back wall before stepping forward to fiddle with the microphone. The bell above the door rang, and Josephine twisted in her chair to greet someone, which didn't seem to matter until it did.

"Is that Cullen?" someone asked, sounding delighted.

Cullen was pretty sure his eyes went very wide, before he turned, trying valiantly to smile. "Alistair?"

"It's been ages," Alistair said, standing beside Josie's chair with a friendly grin. And because Alistair was there, Neria was there too, sliding off her coat behind him.

"Yeah, it has," Cullen said, hoping he didn't sound too strangled. Of course Leliana would invite them without warning him first. They were going to be having words. "I thought you were still in grad school?" He didn't really need to elaborate that the school they'd been going to was six hours away. That would be needless. Dorian was suddenly very quiet on his other side.

"Finished last year," Alistair answered cheerfully. "Neria got a job in town, we've only been back about a week." She'd moved up beside him, giving him a fond look, and Alistair wrapped his arm around his waist as he spoke.

"That's so great," Josephine said, beaming at the pair of them.

Cullen nodded, trying very hard to keep his voice level as he looked at Neria. "Where are you working?"

It wasn't even that he still had feelings for her. It was the fact that he was still embarrassed about the feelings that he had had for her. And certain actions he'd taken influenced by those feelings. Previously. A long, long time ago. Hardly relevant anymore, or they hadn't been when the pair had been too far away to think about.

"At this art gallery down on Cuba," she said, easily, "It's a start, right?"

Dorian, suddenly, leaned over the arm of his chair and onto Cullen's shoulder, practically draped onto him. "For two of the most polite people I know, you are really doing a terrible job of introducing me to your friends."

Josie looked honestly appalled, as she glanced back. "I'm so sorry! Dorian, this is Alistair, and Neria. They went to high school with Cullen and Leliana."

Dorian's eyebrows arched; he looked delighted. "Really?" There was a slightly maniacal hint to his expression as he looked up at the others. "You'll have to tell me all the embarrassing stories.

Cullen flushed. "No, they really don't."

Alistair laughed. "We should probably find somewhere to sit before Leli starts. See you around?"

Cullen nodded, and Josephine agreed, and thankfully there wasn't any free tables near them so they ended up on the other side of the room, close to where Mal and Sera had settled in with Bull and some others after they had also arrived much later than Cullen. Who'd been home playing chess with Dorian when Josephine had been leaving, or he also would've put off arriving until most of the way through the evening. Leliana usually played late anyway, so it wasn't too big of a risk. Though, given that Neria and Alistair were there, he was glad he'd gotten there early. Very deliberately, he took a deep breath, and relaxed.

Dorian, still leaning on his shoulder, gave him an amused look. "What," he said, archly, "was that?"

"What was what?" Cullen said. The deep breath had become useless under such close scrutiny.

"I have never seen you look that terrified of a person before," Dorian said, sounding very pleased about it. He was close enough that Cullen could feel his breath on his jaw. It was very distracting. "It was incredible."

Cullen grimaced, "It's a long story."

"I don't mind," Dorian said.

"Shh," Josephine said, potentially saving Cullen's life. "Leliana's about to start."

Dorian made a disappointed noise, and withdrew to his own seat. Cullen breathed a sigh of relief.

The best part of Leliana's gigs at Joe's was always afterwards. Not in a bad way. Cullen did honestly enjoy hearing her sing, but everyone always came back to the apartment after, and it was late enough that everything was low key and relaxed. Thankfully this time everyone did not include Alistair and Neria, though it wasn't for lack of them being invited. Even Leliana had asked them, and honestly it wasn't even her apartment. But they'd refused, and Cassandra had bowed out early, and some time soon after that Varric had produced a sizable bag of weed. Which, well not an every month thing - Cullen could count the number of times he'd been high with fingers to spare - was definitely not unwelcome.

"You know, I always get colossally horny when I smoke," Dorian said, as he delicately took the pipe Mal offered. "So this should be fun."

Cullen choked, and tried to hide it in a cough. Dorian winked at him.

A short time later, a problem; there was a reason that Cullen didn't smoke often, aside from simple lack of opportunity, but the lack of opportunity meant he always forgot what it was until he was well and truly high. And unsettlingly oversensitive. The music playing in the lounge was something airy and echoey off Cole's phone, and it was still verging on too much, especially combined with the lazy meandering conversation that seemed to flow around the room like water, only with just enough fits and starts that Cullen kept losing the thread. Everything was slow, and it just made it too easy to dwell on moments as they went by, to worry. There was more space for all the regular anxiety in Cullen's chest and it never hesitated to expand to fill it. Sitting sprawled on the couch, everyone else around, caught in a slow shift from comfortable to... something else. Something on the edge. And always unable to find words to explain it. Cullen shifted, slowly, when a hole in the conversation made itself known he slid out of it. Stopped in the kitchen to get a glass of water for his dry mouth, and retreated to his room. Where at least he was the only person to infringe on his own space.

It felt like a small eternity, but couldn't have been long because he swore all he did was walk into his room, drink half the glass of water, and put it down on his desk before he heard someone step behind him. A arm slid around his waist, brown skin, fingers with gold rings, splayed on his stomach, warm through his shirt, and Cullen stared at it for years before it was completely eclipsed by the brush of lips against the back of his neck. It was electric. Or, it wasn't. It was just a brief press, dry lips on dry skin, but it seemed to echo all the way down to his toes. It seemed to last forever, suspended in that hazy place between unreal and too real, it was happening but it was beyond solid ground.

"Dorian?" he said, and he might as well have not bothered with the water with how harshly the name scraped across his dry throat.

Dorian answered with a questioning hum, tilting his head when Cullen turned to face him.

There- there was a moment. Dorian's lips were quirked, eyebrow arched, smirking at Cullen like he could see every thought in his head. He looked a little bloodshot, sure, but there was still a sharpness in his gaze and Cullen - Cullen remembered what he saw in the mirror last time he smoked, bleary eyed, red faced, messed up and- He swallowed. They were standing so close together. Dorian's hand was on his back, it felt like it was burning through his shirt, their noses were almost touching. Their chests were so close together that he swore he could feel the body heat radiating between them and-

Dorian's smile widened, and then he leaned in and kissed him. Cullen could see him getting closer but it still didn't seem like it would happen, not until it did, until Dorian's lips hit his and- He inhaled, sharply, it was too loud, but he was distracted by kissing back. By Dorian's hand winding into his hair, tugging him. They were moving - or Dorian was moving and Cullen was stumbling after him. There wasn't anything else, for a blessed moment. There was just Dorian nipping at his lips, one hand untucking Cullen's shirt, the other at the back of his neck, he was all Cullen could smell and-

Then anxiety came flooding back and he broke away.

"Wait," he said, still hoarse. Worse then before, even. His lips were tingling. He shifted back, had to put space between them, and it felt so much colder already. "Wait, I just- I need-"

Dorian arched an eyebrow, and this one was much less friendly than before. "What?"

"What are we doing?" Cullen asked, and it was a gross simplification of what he wanted to say, he had more of a point but- But Dorian was standing a foot away from him, and he could still taste him.

"I thought it was rather obvious," Dorian said, stepping back into his space, one hand sliding to Cullen's hip. It'd be so easy to just step into him and keep going.

He didn't realise his hand had moved until it touched Dorian's jaw. "Well, yes- I mean- but what happens after."

Dorian rolled his eyes. "Don't you ever do anything without worrying about what happens after?"

"I really don't," Cullen said. It felt like a far more mournful admission than it should be, all his failings in three words. Maybe that made the slowing down a good thing, maybe it made that easier to say.

"Then you should try it some time," Dorian said simply, turning his face into Cullen's hand, lips brushing the tips of his fingers.

It took a long aching moment of fighting with himself, but Cullen pulled his hand back. "Not this." A pause, a ragged bit of hope. "Not with you."

Dorian raised both eyebrows, and stepped back. Away from the bed, away from Cullen, towards the door. "Ah," he said, one syllable that Cullen could read novels into. "So, that's how it is."

He stared at Cullen, a slight frown on his face, for a long moment. Cullen wanted to pull him closer, to kiss the crease between his eyebrows, to do something, anything. But he stayed still. And Dorian turned on his heel and left the room.

Cullen… Cullen stared at the doorway for he didn't know how long, and then went to sleep, chest full of words he didn't know how to say.

Two days later, Cassandra's car shone aggressively brightly in the early morning sun, sitting in the gym parking lot. Pulling his Honda, not exactly beat up but decidedly scruffy, into the space next to it wasn't the proudest of himself Cullen had ever been. Cassandra herself, was leaning against the bumper, texting aggressively. Until that moment, Cullen hadn't realised that was possible.

"You're late," she said without looking up, as he stepped out of the car.

"Sorry," he replied, pulling his gym bag out of the backseat. "I'd offer up an excuse but I really don't have one."

Cassandra snorted, and pushed herself up off the bumper, bag already pulled over her shoulder. She slid her phone into her pocket. "Let's go."

"Who were you texting?" Cullen asked. "You looked like you wanted to be poking them in the eye every time you hit your screen."

"Varric's ignoring his deadlines. And my phone calls," Cassandra said darkly.

Cullen chuckled. "I'm sure he'll regret that."

The glare Cassandra shot his way was withering, but she didn't say anything to dispute the idea as she led the way into the gym proper. And once they got in, there was less focus on conversation. It was always kind of a relief, and Cullen somehow always forgot. There was rarely any pressure to talk with Cassandra, and not a whole lot of opportunity while they were working out. Which worked out well. Mal had been shooting Cullen prompting looks every time they crossed paths, and telling him he was being too quiet. Josie had been bringing him constant cups of tea, and with them opportunities to talk that he had pointedly not taken. Dorian hadn't been to their apartment since that night. Cullen hadn't said anything about it. Didn't really have a lot to say about it. Here, he and Cassandra passed an hour with no more words than it took to spot each other, and finished up sweaty and walking towards the changing rooms.

"Time for breakfast?" Cullen asked.

"Not today," Cassandra said, twisting the top back onto her water bottle. "But I'll see you Saturday morning for another round, yes?"

"I'll be there," Cullen said, before they split to shower. When he finished, Cassandra's car was already gone from the parking lot, leaving his grubby little one by itself. But he was in a better mood than he'd been in a while as he pulled out of the car park, and set off towards campus to get some work done.

He wasn't really sure what to expect when Josephine sent him a text at 3pm asking what time he'd be home because there was a situation that she could use his help with. Typical Josie, there was absolutely nothing in the text that could clarify what exactly that situation was, just enough to tell him something was happening and she was uncomfortable with it. Though at least Cullen could generally count on the fact that she normally wouldn't be asking him to do anything he wouldn't actually want to help with. Besides, he wasn't actually getting any work done. He'd been at the library since nine, under the impression that he'd get more done there than he would at home where roommates and friends could distract him. He should've known that impression was always mistaken. He'd just spent five hours staring blankly at his screen, without even the excuse of anything interesting happening to distract him. Plus he'd taken an hours break for lunch. He really didn't need much prompting to drive home.

There was relief clear on Josie's face when she walked into the hall to meet him, even as she said, "You didn't need to come right away."

"I wasn't busy," Cullen said. "What's going on?"

"I wouldn't have asked you to come at all," Josie said, leading the way to the lounge, "But I've got plans with Leliana this evening, and Malika's got some work dinner that she's been stressed about all week, and I didn't just want to leave him."

Dorian's head turned to regard them when they walked in, expression mild. He was sitting on the couch with his legs crossed, holding a glass of what looked like whiskey delicately. "I get the distinct impression," he said, with the careful diction and poise of the absolutely trashed, "That I'm being handed off."

Josie tutted. "Of course not."

Cullen held back a sigh. "It's all good, Josie, I can deal with this."

She looked at him. "I don't have anywhere to be for a while."

He didn't want to think about how long she would've dealt with this before asking anyone for help. "Yeah, but you probably want to get ready. We'll be fine."

She looked for a moment like she'd protest, but the nodded and retreated, probably back to her room. Cullen sat down beside Dorian.

"So," he said. "Getting through our liquor cabinet, are you?" There were words piling up in his chest again. It was probably the worst time he could say any of them.

Dorian snorted, and took a sip. "I bought most of what's in there."

"Probably true," Cullen said, after a moment's consideration. Booze was Dorian's favourite gift, after all. "Still. It's a Thursday."

"Still," Dorian sighed expansively. "You know, if I'm not wanted here…" He trailed off, arching an eyebrow at Cullen. There was something challenging in his gaze.

"I didn't say that," Cullen replied, calmly.

"I was struck by the urge to get completely and totally shit-faced," Dorian said, completely matter of fact. "I didn't wish to do so alone so I decided to visit."

"And you decided to start without us?" Cullen asked.

"I didn't want to wait," Dorian said, before draining the rest of his glass and leaning forward to place it on the coffee table. "I don't supposed you'll let me get another?"

"Probably not at this point." Cullen leaned back into the couch. "So, what were you doing today that made you want to get drunk so badly."

Dorian sighed, dramatically. "Life. It's a funny thing.

Cullen waited, but he didn't elaborate. "Just life?"

The look Dorian threw him in response was positively withering. "This isn't as fun as I wanted it to be," he said, before starting to push himself upright. "I'm going to go home."

Cullen managed to stand before Dorian completely overbalanced, catching him around the chest as he toppled towards the coffee table. It took a moment for Dorian to brace himself properly against him so he was at least supporting his own weight. He made a quiet, miserable sound.

"You're going to need to help me, aren't you?"

Cullen carefully switched arms so he could brace Dorian around his waist instead his front. "Yeah, I'd say so."

"Alright," Dorian sighed, starting to carefully move towards the front door. "Take me upstairs. The elevator isn't broken this week, is it?"

"No," Cullen said, laughing despite himself. "Thank fuck."

"Such profanity," Dorian said, but there was a small smile starting to grow on his face. Cullen relaxed a little. "Are you saying you wouldn't be happy to carry me up four flights of stairs? I'm heartbroken."

Cullen opened the door, and they shuffled into the hallway. "Why am I not surprised you live on the top floor?"

Dorian gave him a shocked look. "You didn't already know? I thought you'd been to my apartment."

"No," Cullen blinked. "You've never mentioned it. Or invited me. You just always come to ours."

"Oh," Dorian sounded genuinely surprised. "Well. You should see it. I've been thinking of hosting a halloween party this year."

"Shouldn't you have decided by now? It's only a couple of weeks away." They'd finally gotten to the elevator bay. Dorian pulled away and managed to balance himself. At least, mostly. He was still swaying a little, and Cullen kept an eye on him while he pressed the button.

"Do you know what you're doing for halloween yet?" Dorian asked, archly.

"Well, no," Cullen said. "But I know I won't be hosting anything."

"You have no imagination," Dorian said. Then, glancing sidelong at Cullen, he shifted until he could lean against him again. Cullen put his arm around his waist again. Just in case he needed the help.

They made it up to the top floor without incident, but then ran into the door of Dorian apartment. Cullen watched as Dorian very carefully sorted through the keys on the keychain he'd pulled out of his pocket. It was taking him quite a while. He had a very intent look on his face and- it completely slipped off, and he pouted at Cullen.

"Rutherford," he said. "We both know that your apartment key has a nine out of ten chance of opening that door. You're sober. I'm not. Please."

Cullen laughed quietly, stepping forward to find out that, yes, his apartment key did unlock Dorian's door. He pushed the door open and Dorian huffed at him, sauntering somewhat unsteadily into the apartment.

"Come in," he called over his shoulder. Cullen rolled his eyes and followed him in. The apartment was bigger than his, not that he was surprised. They door opened into an expansive lounge, dominated by a large charcoal couch, which Dorian threw himself down onto with a sigh. Cullen moved over to the kitchen, intending on getting some water. It took him longer than he expected to find the glasses, opening cupboard after cupboard. Dorian was peering over the back of the couch when he walked back into the lounge. He snorted when he saw Cullen with the glass.

"The way you were banging around in there I thought you were making me a three course meal," he said, but he took the glass when Cullen held it out to him, and then patted the seat beside him.

"Your kitchen is arranged in no logical format," Cullen informed him, sitting down.

"It makes sense to me," Dorian said, sipping the water. "You just don't get it."

Cullen leaned back into the couch, lacing his fingers together over his stomach. "So, do you want to talk at all?"

"No," Dorian groaned. "God, it's like you've never seen anyone get shitfaced in the afternoon before."

"I've seen plenty of people get shitfaced in the afternoon," Cullen retorted. "I've even seen you do it before."

"Then why so curious?" Dorian smiled at him, still charming even through the drunkenness.

"I worry," Cullen said. "You don't usually go at it alone."

"I don't have any problems," Dorian said. "You can stop worrying."

Cullen shook his head. "I refuse. It's my speciality."

"It is, isn't it," Dorian scoffed. "You know," he placed the half empty glass of water on the coffee table, and turned to face Cullen on the couch. Cullen mirrored him automatically, cursing his heart for skipping a beat when Dorian leaned closer. "If you're really that worried about me, you could help me feel better."

Cullen said, "Dorian," and he intended it to be a warning, but instead it matched Dorian's low murmur. Then Dorian's fingers touched his cheek, his thumb brushed over the scar on Cullen's lip and, god, it almost undid him but… He was in so far over his head.

But he pulled away.

Dorian made a frustrated sound, shifting back as well. "For fucks sake, Cullen," he said. "I have eyes, I've noticed how you look at me, this is the second time I've all but thrown myself at you."

"I wouldn't want it like this," Cullen said.

"Are you trying to protect my virtue?" Dorian asked. "Because, I'll tell you now, it's well and truly sundered."

"It's not that," Cullen smiled, despite himself. "It's… There's a lot to consider. I don't- I don't take this lightly."

"I've seen you have one night stands before," Dorian pointed out.

"Not with my friends," Cullen said. "Not with people I- people like you. It's different. And not with people who are so drunk they can't stand."

Dorian heaved a sigh. "This again."

Cullen licked his lips, and took a deep breath. "You should finish that water and maybe sleep this off."

"Trying to get this done so you can go back and have a regular evening?" Dorian asked. But he picked up the glass and drained it.

"If you really want to talk about it," Cullen said carefully, almost certain he'd regret it. "Ask me when you're sober."

Dorian gave him a considering look. "I'll hold you to that," he said. Then he got up, managing to hardly wobble at all, and headed off towards what Cullen assumed was his bedroom. "You can let yourself out."

Cullen went back to his own apartment, locking Dorian's door behind him. There he made himself a cup of tea, and told himself he was going to get back to work. Instead he sat with a textbook in his lap, and let his tea get cold. He did actually need to reread part of the textbook - there was a chapter he was drawing pretty heavily on for his dissertation. But he wasn't reading it. He was thinking about Dorian. Not even productive things, like finding out what has made Dorian want to get so drunk in the middle of the day. Things like how it'd felt when Dorian had leaned completely against him while they waited for the elevator. He couldn't get it out of his head.

By the time Mal got home it was nearing ten; Cullen was sitting on the couch with an empty dinner plate and a second mug of tea that had also gone cold. She collapsed on the couch beside him with a sigh.

"Josie text me about Dorian," she said, kicking her heels off. "I'm sorry I couldn't get away."

"He was fine," Cullen said. "I took him up to his apartment and left him to sleep it off."

"Still," she said, watching him. He could feel the question brewing in her head, and he turned to give her a flat look.

"Are you going to ask me why I've been quiet again?"

Her cheeks darkened a little. "Well. You have been." He grinned at her and she rolled her eyes. "Do you want a fresh cup of tea."

Cullen looked at the mug on the coffee table. "I'll probably forget and let it go cold again."

"That's a yes," Mal said, and stood up to put the kettle on. Cullen thought about avoiding the topic some more. But, he did probably need some advice. So, when she came back, handing him a mug before sitting down again, he confessed.

"Dorian kissed me,"

She gave him an incredulous look. "Today?"

"No, uh." He coughed. "Tuesday. When we all came back here after Leliana's."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Oh?"

Cullen snorted. "How much judgement can you fit into one syllable?"

"No judgement," she said quickly. "I'm glad you told me. He just kissed you? What did you do?"

"Kissed back," Cullen sighed, tipping his head back onto the couch. "But then- I asked him what would happen after. And he left."

Mal winced. "And today?"

"He flirted a bit," Cullen shrugged. "No more than normal though."

"But you didn't talk about it?"

"Not really," Cullen said. "He was trashed, and I don't know what to say about it. You know how I get."

"I know how you get around people you like," she said. Then, with realisation dawning on her face, "Oh, Cullen."

He took a very deliberate sip from his mug.

Mal hit him, soundly, in the shoulder. "Why didn't you ever tell me? How didn't I guess?"

"It didn't seem important?" Cullen said. "I didn't think anything could ever happen until he went and kissed me."

"He flirts with you all the time," Mal pointed out.

"You could say that about him and any of our friends," Cullen shot back. "Which is why-" He shook his head. "I've wanted to for ages, but all I could think was I didn't know if it meant the same thing to him."

"Did you ask him?"

"He left, didn't he?" Cullen shrugged.

Mal wriggled closer on the couch, leaning her head against his shoulder. "So, when you say ages…" She trailed off.

Cullen snorted. "Don't start, Cadash. Anyway, Josie said you had a work dinner tonight, how did that go?"

Mal let out a long groan. "Let's not."

He chuckled. "Okay."

There had been the edges of a migraine flirting around Cullen's temples all day. And he had been doing some work for his dissertation, or at least reorganising his research folders so he could pretend he was doing something, but it was starting to get the point where no screen filter could keep him sat in front of his laptop comfortably, not even with his curtains drawn, not even actually wearing the reading glasses that usually just sat in his bag until he forgot he owned them So, when it became apparent that he really, really had no hope of focusing on anything requiring actual thought, he'd closed his laptop and retreated from his desk to his bed. He had a book out of the library, but it hadn't been keeping his interest when he wasn't on the verge of just curling up until the ache stopped. He was debating turning the lamp off and just trying to sleep when someone knocked on his door.

Cullen hesitated for a moment before saying, "Come in."

The door cracked and he winced a little, and Dorian stepped inside. "Well. It's a little dreary in here right now." He did, at least, shut the door behind him. "Are you sick?"

"No," Cullen said. He wasn't sure how to react. He didn't… He and Dorian hadn't really spoken much at all since he'd helped Dorian get up to his apartment. It wasn't that they were avoiding each other, at least not yet but. It had still felt like something. Uncomfortable, at the least. "Getting a migraine. It hasn't hit yet, but I can feel it."

Dorian winced, walking closer, and sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed. There was something odd, Cullen thought, about the way he was moving. Like he was missing his usual swagger. "I'm glad I've never had to deal with those."

"Yeah." Cullen grimaced. "I was going to try and sleep through the worst of it. So- not to be rude, but, did you want to talk about something."

"I did." Dorian coughed. "Firstly, I have been sent in with mail for you." He held up an envelope, displaying it before placing it gently on Cullen's bedside table. "I'll leave it there until you're feeling better. Secondly, well… It's been brought to my attention that I was… Somewhat rude to you."

Cullen blinked. "You've never once apologised to me for being rude before."

"Yes, well," Dorian said. "There's a difference between needling you about your hair in good fun, and the way acted over the past week, so. We're friends, obviously, and I shouldn't have treated you that way." He stopped, looking frustrated. Cullen realised, with a rush of probably unhelpful fondness, that Dorian was embarrassed. Which at least helped him relax a little. "It took me a little longer than it should have, but I need to apologise for… How did Sera put it." He looked Cullen in the eye, sincere and a little flushed. "I'm sorry for the way I treated you when I was high and horny. And I'm sorry for getting drunk on your couch without asking any of you first."

Cullen started to laugh. "You talked to Sera about it?"

"She's very convincing, when she wants to be. It's not the most eloquent apology, I suppose," Dorian said, flushing darker. "But I thought it was direct."

"That's one word for it," Cullen said, chuckling. Carefully, he sat all the way up, feeling his temples throb at the movement. "I appreciate the apology." He put his hand on Dorian's shoulder. "You're forgiven."

"Oh good," Dorian said, looking honestly relieved. "That's the only important thing I had to say. I guess I'll leave you to your poor aching head." He stood, hesitating by the bed for a moment. "Unless you need anything?"

Cullen shook his head. "No, thank you. I'm sure I'll see you sometime soon."

"Of course," Dorian said. "Feel better."

The migraine was still steadily growing, but Cullen thought maybe he already did.

The next morning, mostly recovered, he picked up the envelope Dorian had left on his nightstand. It was square, made of thick white card, and he was fairly sure of what it was before he opened it. Sure enough, the card inside started, 'Donnic Hendyr and Aveline Vallen invite you to join them in celebration..'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://ratifythesilence.tumblr.com).


	3. Wanna Be Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things turn out okay.

Cullen was focusing very hard on his keyboard. Things were going very well. He really thought he'd discovered a good direction this week, and if his research kept going the way it had been it'd work out excellently. He just had to make sure to get it all down now. It was always the way, if it was left alone he'd lose the thread. Which was why he'd hardly left his room all day. That, and he'd had a meeting with his advisor and Meredith had really perfected the stony gaze. It was somewhat of a motivation. He wasn't - the front door slammed shut and Mal's shout of "Leliana!" was audible from the lounge - avoiding anything. There was the muffled sound of more conversation. Cullen focused very carefully on the words on his laptop screen. His eyes were starting to hurt. He should probably get his glasses, but he wasn't entirely sure where he'd left them. The voices, he realised, were moving closer.

"-he's been holed up for hours," Mal was saying. "I tried to get him to come hang out but he was all, 'this chapter won't write itself.'" Her impression of him was gruff and slightly ridiculous.

"I couldn't even get him to stop for chess," Dorian agreed.

Leliana's voice was soft enough that he couldn't pick out the individual words. He hunched closer to his screen.

So, maybe he was avoiding something. Maybe, maybe, Leliana and he had both gotten an event request on facebook. Maybe it was for Neria and Alistair's housewarming. Maybe Cullen really, really didn't want to go.

"Cullen," Leliana said, "You don't look like you're ready for Alistair's thing."

The three of them were all crowded in Cullen's doorway, Leliana at the front and looking the most unimpressed. Dorian and Mal both looked like they were enjoying the situation a little too much.

Cullen sighed. "I said I'd come if I wasn't too busy, but I've got a lot to get done this week. Plus, you know they only invited me to be polite."

"That's not true," Leliana said. "They want you to come."

"I feel like I'm missing a lot of really fascinating backstory," Dorian said to Mal.

Mal smirked, staring directly at Cullen. "Cullen's trying to avoid seeing this girl he was in love with when he was, like, sixteen."

Cullen let out a strangled, "Mal!" at the same time as Dorian, eyes bright with humour, said, "Ah."

"You met her, actually," Leliana said. "She and her boyfriend were at my gig the other night, Josie said she introduced you to them."

"Oh," Dorian said, like everything had just become clear. "That charming couple that made him look like he'd just touched a high voltage fence?"

"The very same," Leliana said, and Cullen could tell she was just as amused as the other two, even if she was hiding it better. "What he needs to realise is that Alistair wouldn't have invited him if he didn't want him to come."

"You cannot tell me," Cullen said, reaching for dignity and relatively sure he was completely missing, "That Neria doesn't still hate me."

"She never hated you in the first place," Leliana said, exasperated. "And to be fair, you weren't at your best at the time."

"I know," Cullen said. "That's why I don't want to go."

"I really think you need to tell me all the sordid details," Dorian said.

Leliana smiled, but turned to wave the pair away. "You two aren't helping," she said. "Shoo."

Mal let out an exaggerated sigh, but she grabbed Dorian's arm, and pulled him back towards the lounge.

Leliana shut the door, and walked over to sit on Cullen's bed. Reluctantly, Cullen turned his chair around to face her.

"You're being ridiculous," she told him. "Change into something nice, and we'll go. You'll have fun."

"You don't know that," Cullen said, aware that he sounded like a petulant two year old, and that by rubbing his sore eyes he was making himself look like one too.

"I swear," Leliana shook her head. "You are the only one who still holds high school against you. It was years ago. Come with me, I swear we don't have to stay long."

"That's not fair on you," Cullen said. "You actually want to go, they're your friends."

Leliana shrugged. "I'm being fundamentally selfish," she said. "I don't want to have to explain why you're not there all night."

She smiled at him and he sighed. "Fine. Just give me a minute to get changed."

It only would've taken a few minutes to change, but Cullen drew it out, choosing what shirt to wear slowly. It wasn't that he wanted to look particularly nice, not at this point. He just wanted to put off going. He was both giving up and buttoning up when there was a knock on his door, and Dorian cracked it open.

"I have been sent to make sure this wasn't some sort of ruse to allow you to escape out your window," he said. "Or to make you hurry up. Either or." He stepped properly into the room, pushing the door mostly closed behind him.

"Just putting off actually being ready," Cullen said, finishing up with his buttons. "But I'm fairly sure I've reached the point of no return."

Dorian chuckled, giving him a considering look, strolling closer. "I could prolong it a little longer. You know, I can make you look so good that everyone at the party will want you, not just the girl."

"Last time you got to pick what I was wearing, you picked glitter," Cullen pointed out.

Dorian grinned, stopping right in front of him. "Which you looked very good in."

"It's not really a priority for this anyway," Cullen said. "It's not- I haven't- They're a happy couple, and I got over that crush a long time ago."

"What a pity," Dorian said. There was a pause, each of them looking at the other. Standing less than a foot apart. There was something in the air between them.

Cullen cleared his throat, and stepped away. "I should probably go before Leliana sends someone else in."

"Of course. We wouldn't want to keep her waiting," Dorian said. He waited for Cullen to lead the way out of the room.

The housewarming itself, once they got there, was pretty much exactly what Cullen had expected. There were people he recognised everywhere, none of whom he still spoke. He spend several minutes staring at a guy and a girl he knew he knew, but couldn't put names to, until he finally realised they were the younger set of the Hawke twins. He got a good few more minutes of wondering how the hell the Hawke family seemed to know everyone before he started having people approach him. Probably he should've stuck with Leliana. Only, she was going to actually make round of the party and talk to people, and he wanted to find a corner in which to sip the single bottle of beer he'd grabbed from the fridge on the way out of the house. He'd hoped people would leave him alone. He should've known better.

Somewhere after the fifth repetition of oh-so-what-are-you-doing-now-are-you-still-with-this-person-wow-it's-been-ages-hasn't-it, Cullen was starting to consider finding Leliana and asking if she was ready to leave. Or, potentially, texting her to say he was taking a taxi home, and that he'd see her later. She'd make him pay for the second one at some point, but it was tempting all the same. He was still holding the same - now empty - beer

"You look like you're considering bolting out a window." Neria's voice was still familiar, so many years later. A flashback to every time she'd sat sideways in her desk in class, chatting at him while he failed to find the words to reply in any way shape or form that wasn't embarrassing.

"We are only on the first floor, I could probably make it," Cullen said. He couldn't remember the first time he'd looked at her and realised that he didn't have butterflies any more. But, at the very least, it meant he could now hold a moderately successful conversation.

"I wasn't sure if you'd come," she said, leaning against the wall. "Alistair had a lot of faith that you would. He has a lot of faith in everybody."

"If his faith was that Leliana is convincing, it was well placed," Cullen said.

Neria's eyes crinkled up as she smiled. "That is true."

"So, an art gallery, huh?" Cullen said.

She nodded, sipping her drink. "I'm a glorified PA to the owner, but it's a start. Are you still with the police?"

"No," Cullen shifted slightly uncomfortable. "I'm doing a doctorate at the moment, actually. Sociology."

"Oh?" She gave him a considering look. "What made you do that?"

Cullen had spent too long trying to explain it to himself to actually be able to do it eloquently on command. "I… don't know. I didn't feel like I was helping people. Enough."

"Admirable," she said.

"Or stupid," Cullen said. "We won't know for a while yet."

"Well, we'll see then." She shrugged. "Anyway, who was that last week at Leliana's gig?"

"Who?"

"That guy," she arched an eyebrow. "The one with the mustache. The one who got all possessive all over you when we came over?"

"Possessive?" Cullen asked, more confused than ever. "Oh, Dorian?"

She gave him an enquiring look. He narrowed his eyes.

"He's a friend of mine," he said.

"Just a friend?"

Cullen could feel himself going red, and it was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. There was a funny feeling adjacent to butterflies in his stomach, but this one wasn't about her at all. "Yes, just a friend," he said. "Stop looking at me like that."

She laughed. "You're kind of transparent, you know that?"

"Only to some," he sighed.

"Hey, you can always try getting drunk and confessing you love," she said. "I heard it works sometimes."

Cullen winced. "I heard it ends up with vomit."

She laughed. "You're alright, Cullen. I'll see you around."

She walked away and not long after Leliana caught up with him, a little buzzed, but ready to head out. He drove her car back to the apartment building.

Halfway there, she twisted in her seat to face him and asked, "What are you going as for Dorian's halloween party?"

"Ugh," Cullen said. He had, up until that moment, forgotten he was expected to dress up. "Something easy?"

Leliana laughed. "Get some holiday spirit, Cullen."

Dorian's apartment had a balcony. It wasn't that it was totally unexpected, given that it was undoubtably one of the most expensive in the building. Just, well. Cullen hadn't thought about it. And he was thinking about it plenty as he sat on it. On the ground, with his back against the railing, with his head tipped back to look at the sky. He would've liked to say he was star gazing, but it was far too overcast and smoggy to actually see any. At least the evening was nice and cool, because Cullen had gotten sick of the muggy, hot, smoggy nights over summer. And he was close enough to too hot then, had felt like he'd been burning up when he'd been inside. Even when he came outside, but if he took his cape off he got too cold, so he just had to deal with it. Potentially the best option would be to have the cape off while indoors, but that would involve going inside and Cullen was going to… not do that. There was a reason. He couldn't quite grasp it anymore. He was drunk. God, he was very drunk, in a shitty vampire costume, on Dorian's balcony.

He was never letting Malika or Sera mix his drinks ever again.

"Mal said I'd find you out here," came a very familiar voice. "Why are you hiding all by yourself?"

"Too hot inside," Cullen said. "Also, trying to miti… Mitigate the risk of making a fool of myself in front of everyone."

Dorian chuckled. "It's Halloween. Isn't making a fool of yourself half the point."

"No," Cullen shook his head emphatically, and then stopped because the movement was making him nauseous. "Definitely not."

"You know, I think this is the furtherest gone I've ever seen you," Dorian said, voice warm. "It's cute."

Cullen made a miserable sound, folding his arms on top of his knees and resting his chin on them. "I'm never going to talk to Mal again," he said, seriously.

"Oh, come on," Dorian said, sitting down beside him. "You love Mal. What's the problem."

"She did this on purpose," Cullen explained. "And you're the person I least want to see me like this. I don't need help making a fool of myself in front of you."

Dorian scoffed. "You've seen me off my face enough I wouldn't think you'd have anything to worry about." His hand drifted over to rub at the back of Cullen's neck, fingers scraping through the hair at the back of his skull.

"It's not the same," Cullen said, relaxing despite himself. He dropped his forehead to his arms. "You always act like you know what you're doing. I'm a mess. I still really want to kiss you."

Dorian's hand stilled for just a moment. "You've had opportunity."

Cullen got the distinct impression that he was being laughed at. If subtly. "I'd do something stupid," he said. "I always do. And you were drunk, I wouldn't… I'm still worried about you, by the way." He turned his head to look at Dorian. "You never talked to me about it."

Dorian's hand was resting on his cheek then, thumb brushing along his cheekbone. "I told you to stop worrying. I'm fine."

Cullen shut his eyes, wanting to focus on Dorian's fingers on his face, but opened them when the world started to spin. "It's not that easy."

"It isn't, is it?" Dorian smiled, then looked up at the sound of the sliding door scraping open. Cullen kept watching him. Someone said something - he heard the voice but not the words, and then Dorian said, "Water, please," and the door scraped closed again.

"You can't be being a very good host staying out here with me," Cullen murmured. It had felt, for a little while, like the rest of the party didn't exist.

Dorian snorted. "I'm an excellent host. I'm taking care of my guests. Of which you are one."

The door opened again, and then a glass of water appeared directly in front of Cullen's face. He blinked, raised his head, and took it. From Malika. Who he was… unhappy with. She crouched in front his him, and he frowned at her. She kissed him on the forehead.

"I'm sorry," she said, before looking at Dorian. "I can take it from here if you want to go back to your party."

Dorian's hand, which had stopped moving when Cullen looked up at Mal, shifted back to the back of his neck and resumed rubbing. "I'm quite alright," he said.

Malika snorted. "Sure. Let me know." Cullen was at least aware enough to watch her retreat back inside. The water was cold all the way down into his chest. There was quiet in between them, at least as much as there could be with bass thumping and people shouting inside.

"I can't believe your apartment has a balcony," Cullen commented.

"I definitely pay enough for it," Dorian said. There was a loud thump from inside, and they both looked at the door, but whatever had caused it wasn't visible. "Bull or Sera, do you think?"

"Both," said Cullen. The cold seemed to have started to spread through him. He definitely wasn't overheated anymore. Cautiously, alert for any kind of movement, he leaned over until he was pressing into Dorian's side. Dorian chuckled, shifting his arm so it was propped across Cullen's shoulder, fingertips still idly sliding through Cullen's hair.

"I'm really not good at this," Cullen said, thinking maybe he could make things work out if only he could explain.

"Not good at what?" Dorian asked. "Being drunk? I've seen you do okay at it before."

"No, this," Cullen frowned. "This thing. Wanting to kiss you."

"Ah, that," Dorian said. "I can see that. You certainly turn me down a lot for someone who'd like to kiss me."

"It's never right," Cullen said. "And it should be. You deserve it."

"What's the problem with being a little wrong sometimes?" Dorian's hand tugged lightly at his hair.

Cullen let his head fall onto Dorian's shoulder. "It depends on the situation."

"Always thinking," Dorian said, sounding amused and fond. "You'll still be pondering your options long after everyone else has moved on."

Well, Cullen thought. He wasn't wrong.

The next day Cullen only woke up at noon, and spent half an hour hovering near the toilet, after brushing his teeth, trying to decide if he was going to vomit or not - nothing came up. He lay back down on the couch rather than in his room, figuring it was closer to the kitchen and therefore a source of water. It had been a while since he'd felt this shitty after drinking. Time drifted - he dozed on the couch. At one point he woke up to find Josie curled in the armchair, and his water glass refilled.

He mumbled a thanks before taking a few sips, trying not to drink enough to set off his stomach.

"Want anything to eat?" Josie asked. She looked tired, but not overly.

He thought about food for a moment, and his stomach rolled. "Definitely not." He dozed for a while again.

In the late afternoon, Mal shuffled into the room, stopping at the end of the couch to pat his head. "How are you feeling?"

"Shitty," Cullen answered, though he wasn't feeling quite so terrible as he had been.

"Me too," she chirped, and then she dropped his phone onto his chest. "Someone was calling you. I didn't get to it in time."

Cullen sighed and saw that he had another voicemail from Mia. He still hadn't returned her last call. He let out a long groan, and let his phone fall back onto his chest.

"Not good news?" Mal asked, shuffling towards to kitchen.

"I need to call my sister," Cullen sighed, carefully pushing himself into a sitting position. "I keep forgetting. She's going to kill me."

"You already look like you're dying." Mal shuffled back in, holding a couple of Advil and a glass of water.

There was the sound of the key in the door, and they all sighed.

"Bets?" said Mal.

"Sera," said Josie.

"I wanted to pick Sera," said Cullen.

Mal rolled her eyes. "Wait."

"Well, I hope everyone's feeling hungover or else I failed as a host," Dorian said, swinging from the front hall to the kitchen and standing behind Mal in the doorway. Cullen heart dropped suddenly. He only vaguely remembered the conversation they'd had the night before but vaguely was enough.

Mal smiled. "Sera's been here since last night. Both of you owe me a drink." She turned to pat Dorian on the shoulder. "Thank you. And to the hungover question? Yes." With that she turned to walk through the lounge and back towards her bedroom.

Dorian chuckled. "It looks like Josie got off lightest."

"Or you did," Josie retorted.

"I'm remarkably practiced at not being hungover," Dorian said. "Rutherford. Any plans for the evening?"

"I, ugh… Trying not to die slowly?" Cullen answered. 

"Think you could summon enough energy to lose to me at chess?" Dorian asked, strolling over to the couch and holding a hand out. His eyebrow was arched in challenge and-

Between the challenge, and the embarrassment, and the hangover Cullen didn't have enough mental capacity to find an excuse. He took Dorian's hand, and pulled himself up. Dorian's grip lingered a moment once he was upright.

"Just know, I won't go easy on you just because you look so very pathetic right now." He dropped Cullen's hand and led the way into Cullen room, getting the board together while Cullen stood feeling increasingly out of his depth with the situation.

Maybe he could head the awkwardness off at the start. "Hey, Dorian," he said. "I- uh- I know I said some things last night."

"And I said some things to you when I was drunk," Dorian said. "Now I guess we're even."

Cullen frowned. "I was a little more forthcoming than you, if I remember correctly."

Dorian sighed, and looked over from where he'd been tugged Cullen's desk chair into place. "Persistent aren't you? Fine. I had lunch with my father that day."

The bottom of Cullen's stomach fell out, and he promptly felt like the biggest asshole in the world. This was the opposite of stopping the awkwardness. This was very much making things worse. "I- Shit, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Dorian waved a hand at him. "I was unhappy on the day, but if I didn't know how to deal with my own family after this many years I'd be ashamed of myself. Now sit down, I came to play not have a heart to heart."

Cullen say down. White was facing towards him. He shifted a pawn mostly on autopilot, not sure what strategy to use, not sure if he could even remember any at that moment. They knew most of each others by now.

Dorian shifted a pawn in a mirror of his move, then leaned back, stretching his legs out. His feet bumped into Cullen's ankles then rested there. Cullen swallowed.

He cleared his throat, trying to break the silence. There was something hanging in the air between him, in the way Dorian was watching him. It made the back of his neck prickle, and his stomach roll in a way that had nothing to do with his hangover. "Did you have a good time last night?" he asked. It might have been the most inane thing he'd ever said. Very quickly he shifted another pawn. He had no idea what he was trying to do.

"I did," Dorian said simply. He seemed to regard the board for only a moment before shifting a knight on the board. "Did you?"

"I would've preferred if I hadn't gotten quite so drunk." Cullen swallowed again. His mouth was very dry. "So, what inspired this? Just felt like playing?" He stared at his pieces, before shifting a rook. Maybe he could turn this into a feint.

"Something like that," Dorian said. "Have you spent your whole afternoon lying on that couch?"

"Yes," Cullen said. "I haven't been in any condition to do anything else." Aside from their voices, the only sound was the muffled click of chess pieces hitting the board. He couldn't tell if he was still nauseous or just nervous.

"Poor boy," Dorian said.

The game continued.

Dorian took two of his pawns before Cullen managed to rally any kind of defense. He managed to push back enough the nab the knight Dorian had been using to clean up his front line, but the damage was done by that point. Even if he'd managed to scrape together a strategy, it'd have been difficult to keep it maintained through that. His concentration was shot, there was something still stretched between them that he didn't know how to broach.

"Good game," he said when, after what was simultaneously no time at all and an age, Dorian won.

Dorian made a considering noise, and stood, rounding the table. Cullen stood to meet him.

"I've been thinking," Dorian said.

"Oh?" Cullen prompted.

Dorian's head cocked. There was something almost predatory in his gaze; it made Cullen's chest tighten. "Here we are, both sober, all alone…" He trailed off, smiling.

Then he slid both of his hands into Cullen's hair and kissed him. It was even better than Cullen remembered. He kissed back, fiercely, wrapping his arms around Dorian's waist, pulling him in. He wanted it to keep going forever, to keep holding onto him, Dorian's hands fisted in his hair, Dorian's teeth sunk into his lip-

Too much too soon.

Very consciously, he forced himself to soften. To breathe in properly, instead of in harsh gasps against Dorian's lips, relaxing his hands so he was holding instead of digging in. Dorian matched him, hands relaxing, fingers stroking through his hair instead of tugging, teeth melting into soft, lingering kisses. Cullen felt a little drunk from sheer proximity. Dorian's fingers smoothed down the side of his neck, down his shoulders, and then Dorian pulled back far enough that they could look at each other.

He was gorgeous. He was smiling, the curve of his lips slick, and a little flushed. Cullen shook his head, and leaned in to kiss him again. Chaste, this time, if slow. Dorian made a quiet, pleased sound, and then pulled back.

Stepped back.

"Your move," he said, and then he walked out of the room.

Cullen stood still, and watched him go. Cullen- Cullen got a lot done that week.

He had a meeting with Meredith on the monday, and she seemed as pleased as she ever was with his dissertation progress. At least, she didn't look any angrier than normal. Cullen had yet to see her smile. And she pointed him at a few secondary sources that he could use that he hadn't found yet, and then was at least a month of steady work sorting through everything. He had to get a head start on it, plus actually going on school visits for his own research. He kept going to the gym with Cassandra, and they went out for breakfast where she spend about half an hour angrily ranting about trying to get Varric to actually send in his drafts. He even called his sister, on the Thursday afternoon.

She answered the call by saying, "Did someone steal your phone or did hell actually freeze over," so that went about as well as he thought it would.

He didn't speak to Dorian at all. Which… It wasn't like Dorian had been around. Maybe he was busy. It wasn't like Cullen had been avoiding him. He just hadn't actually sought him out. Dorian had left with a challenge and Cullen… Cullen wanted to sort out what he actually should say before he took it up. But he hadn't been doing a very good job of figuring out what he should say, how to word anything. So maybe he was ignoring it a little bit. Maybe he didn't need to be working quite so hard to get ahead with his research.

"Did everyone just decide to be boring today or what?" said Sera.

He looked up to see her leaning in his doorway. "What?"

She huffed. "Josie's out. Mal's got another work thing she has to plan this week, so she's freaking out over a bloody table arrangement. You're just staring at your laptop."

"I've got a lot to get through," Cullen said, turning to face her. "I- I don't mean you should leave. I was just explaining. I have some time if you want to hang out."

She snorted. "Thanks." But she walked further into the room, flopping onto his bed to sit against his headboard. "You've been all squirrelly away all week."

"I've been busy," Cullen shrugged.

"Not just busy." She gave him a suspicious look. "What's going on between you and Dorian now?"

Cullen spluttered. "Nothing- just- how did you know?"

"I didn't," she cackled, "But you just told me. Now you have to explain."

"It's nothing," Cullen protested. "There's- I don't know."

"Like fuck you don't know," Sera said.

"It's my move, apparently," Cullen said.

"Your move?" Sera rolled her eyes. "Dramatic little shit, isn't he?"

Cullen smiled despite himself. "Yes."

"So, what's your move?" Sera folded her arms.

"I don't know," he huffed.

She tipped her head back to read against the wall. "What do you want, Cul?"

"I don't know," he repeated. "And I don't know what Dorian wants either. I just… I don't want to ruin anything."

"Things will change either way," Sera said.

Cullen looked at her. "You know, Sera, that's almost profound.

She responded by throwing one of his pillows at him. "Cullen," She said, after he'd thrown it back. "For someone who spends all their fucking time thinking, you sure miss a lot."

"What am I missing now?" he asked.

"You think it's just you," she said. "You think everyone knows what they're doing except you, but every fucking person I know is running around with their ass hanging out and no idea where they're going. Everyone."

He blinked. "Not true."

"Name one person," she countered.

Cullen thought about it for a moment. "Mal's boss," he said after a moment. "Vivienne?"

Sera shuddered. "Okay, point to you. But she's terrifying."

"Also, my adviser at college."

"Now you're missing the point," Sera said. "Do you need me to throw more shit at you?"

He raised his hands in surrender. "No, please no. But that's not exactly comforting."

"It's not supposed to be," Sera said. "But would you rather fuck up by trying to do something or not trying at all."

Cullen blinked. "I… uh…"

She sighed, and stood up. "Want to drink and distract Mal with me?"

He closed his laptop. "Sure."

But her words lingered. He spent several days thinking about them. It was possible, he thought, that he'd spent so long assuming Dorian wasn't interested that he was refusing to give it a chance. That he was making excuses and avoiding actually taking steps now that he had the opportunity. But even if he made the decision, he still had to figure out how to do it. What to say, how to explain. He just kept scrapping ideas, and struggling. Until he got too frustrated with himself to continue. It was a Wednesday, and he sent Dorian a text at 6pm that said, 'Are you home? Can I come up?'

Dorian took twenty nerve wracking minutes to reply. 'Oh? I just got home. Come on up.'

Cullen took the elevator up and knocked, and followed Dorian into the lounge. And then…

Dorian was looking at him expectantly, and Cullen was- Cullen didn't know why anyone trusted him with anything. Ever. Any bravery that had helped him on the climb up to Dorian's apartment had started to wither away as soon as the door had opened. Now that he was inside there was absolutely nothing left. He should have done a better job planning what he was going to say. He should have planned something. Instead he just let the silence stretch between them while Dorian waited.

Several million years later he managed to move and say something. Unfortunately, he moved to press his hands over his face, and said, "Fuck," in what he would maintain was not a squeak.

"Well," Dorian said, clearly fighting to contain laughter for all that Cullen wasn't looking at him. "That's faster than I thought you'd move."

"God," breathed Cullen, half at himself and half at the idea of that. "Remember when I got really drunk and told you I wasn't good at this?"

"I do recall," Dorian said, "Vaguely."

"This is what I meant," Cullen said, dropping one hand and shaking his head, running the other hand back through his hair. "It's just- Every time I… Like someone, I forget how to act like a normal human being."

"So, you like me, then?" Dorian practically purred, shifting closer.

Cullen was pretty sure he was beet red. "I would've thought that was obvious by now."

"I don't like to assume," Dorian said. "Besides, it's always nice to be told. But I have a feeling there's a point you're walking towards."

Cullen screwed up his courage. "I do. Like you. And have a point. I- I'm really bad at this. I said that. I'm especially bad at casual. If we… I've been so scared of doing something because I don't want to get in too deep. Not if this isn't- If you want something different from me, I don't want to find out after."

Dorian's gaze was steady, and Cullen felt very exposed. "So you want, what? to date me?"

"I guess," Cullen said. "Yes, I do."

"Well," said Dorian, somewhat doubtfully, "That's something we could try."

Cullen's heart dropped a little. "You don't sound convinced."

Dorian smiled, and there was a wicked edge to it as he stopped closer. "Then convince me," he said, lips a hairsbreadth from Cullen's own.

Cullen took his face, gently, and kissed him. Lightly, carefully. Dorian smiled into it, and then slid his hands to grip Cullen's waist, to tug him closer.

"Yeah," Dorian mumbled against his mouth some time later. "You're convincing."

Later. "So, I have this thing," Cullen said, lying on Dorian's couch, with Dorian half on top of him. He didn't know why he was so nervous now.

It had definitely bled into his tone, because Dorian twisted his neck to give him a suspicious look. "Why does it sound like I'm going to hate this?"

"You're not!" Cullen attempted to assure him. "Or, I don't think you will."

"You're filling me with confidence," Dorian said dryly.

"Um. It's just, a friend of mine is getting married soon," Cullen said, "And I was wondering if you'd maybe want to be my plus one?"

Dorian blinked. "Do you want me to be your plus one?"

"Of course," Cullen said. "I wouldn't ask otherwise."

Dorian turned around and braced himself on Cullen's chest, looking at him properly. "Which friend? I haven't heard about anyone getting married. And when is it?"

"Aveline, my old boss from the station," said Cullen, "And two weeks from Saturday."

"Sure," Dorian smiled, and leaned forward to peck him on the lips. "I'm free then."

Sometimes, Cullen thought, it was as easy as that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://ratifythesilence.tumblr.com).


End file.
